Night

The Sun first espied her- the night-
who in eve’s form arrived,
her dark-eyed stare upon the light,
she hurried, hurried eagerly nigh!

So bashful, the Sun, 

writ a welcome in the sky,
in crimson and red and sought to hide;
their meet, though brief, the magic complete,
the spell cast – a poet’s delight!

And as the eve hurried fervently by,
the blushing Sun, into the horizon, dived;
in ripples of orange, into the sea,
leaving in mourning, the marooned night!

Dreams for a morrow hopeful she weaves,
secrets in her tresses wide she keeps,
the sparkling stars, her unshed tears,
her moony lantern, she hangs on high!

Her aura portends a secret sorrow,
hovers brooding until tomorrow;
feeble at dawn, tears forcibly flow,
dew drops, dew drops upon Nature’s floor!